


Stockholm Syndrome

by Godzayn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, I might change the title, idk if i'll continue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:37:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2549459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godzayn/pseuds/Godzayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years. Two year of being stuck  in a house not knowing where she is. It's getting to her and being in a house with a mass murder isn't helping one bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stockholm Syndrome

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since since I've wrote and I don't know if I'll even continue this but I might as well put all my work here.

His smirk was one of the things that kept me, wondering about him. Mixed emotions  spread across his face whenever  he would smirk. Craziness was the first thing I saw, when I first met him. I thought he was the devil himself, staring down at me as he walked into the small cold room I use to be in. Anger was another.  I  could see it but he'd never show it. To me to be exact. There were  a  times when he was mad at me, but never verbally or physically showed. Love was another, I could barely see it but I know. There wouldn ’ t be another reason why, he'd keep me alive. Or he was doing all this to make me his some sort of human pet.

There was one other emotion  I  saw in him that made me question him the most. Hurt. I never knew nor ask why he seemed hurt. But  I  wanted to ask him. I wanted to ask him about everything. Why he kills, why'd he let me out, what was his life before he started any of this?  I was too afraid to ask, then  it came out absentmindedly, "Why?"

His  piercing  brown eyes looked up  to  m y  own, his smirk still showed  clearly on his lips as he leaned back on the couch, "Why what, love?"

My eye s glanced away from him to the  TV  that showed a rerun of a show of a show I've seen too many times to count. My eyes when back up to him, releasing my bottom lip from in between my teeth before speaking again. "Why do you this? Why do you kill innocent  people ? I don ’ t see why you do it . " 

He chuckled. " Not all  people are innocent. Even when they’re  not guilty . "   With that he looked away from her and back on to the  tv  and changed the channel . There was a certain time, where he  would leave only one thing on  tv , the news. It was the same exact time they would talk about the missing people report and list who missing. He al ways smirked when the news reporters  list the same people that were or once were in a  same rusty gray room chained to the wall. The same people that hoped one day that they would get out and go back to their families, but it would never get close to that. I always hoped to go back home,  to see my friends and family again but I knew never to get my hopes up.

That was the last question  I asked him that night. If I had asked any more, he would start to do the same to me and I didn't want that. I sat on the other side of the couch as I watch he smiled smugly at the lady listing the  people who were M.I.A. Most were in the house. I only knew because he kept a book in his room listing the names of any one he brought here. I tried looking for my name but I never saw it. The only thing that was weird to me was that two names were scribbled out. One was  under the date of  March 2009. The other was August 2012 which I assumed was mine. 

When the missing in action part was over, the turned the  tv  off and got up from the couch. He looked down at me before outstretching his hand. "Time for bed." I s ighed and got up from the couch, ignor ing  his hand  he offered.  He chuckled when I did and got up and followed me to his room. We had to share his room since the other were occupied for other things. He wouldn't let me sleep any where else any way, because he did, he knew I would try to escape. I said I wouldn't but he was smarter than that.  

Laying on the bed, I stared at the wall in front of me. I felt the bed dip behind me following with a tattoo cladded arm draping around my waist. I never liked the fact he had to put his arm around me when we lay together.   He said it was so he can tell if I tried to get out of bed. My eyes  shut close af ter he did so and sleep through another night feeling somewhat safe in his arms.


End file.
